


Kaleidoscope

by atimi (bertee)



Series: CWRPF: Kaleidoscope [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Humiliation, M/M, Power Play, Younger!Jensen, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-27
Updated: 2008-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-11 10:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/atimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking for a distraction, rich lawyer!Jared picks up younger hustler!Jensen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kaleidoscope

The city slid past Jared's windows in a blur of dull mediocrity.

His sleek black Impala sped too slickly and too easily through the darkened streets of New York, a reminder than his lifestyle could now make him almost invisible to the world he’d once thrived upon. Windows closed, he stayed shuttered off as he wound his way through neighborhoods that paid more out in bail money than in taxes, losing himself in the passing whirl of abandoned buildings, sprawling graffiti and cheap neon store signs promising the oblivion of liquor.

Boredom thrummed through his veins, making his heart pound at a different speed to the music pulsing heavily from his speakers. His body tensed for a fix, a fuck, a fight, anything to make reality come screaming back after days of suits and office politics.

As much as he reveled in the power of his position, the cut-throat nature of business, and the seemingly endless array of things money could buy, he was too often left with an insatiable itch for something harder and harsher than his current life provided. The office-supplied cocaine, the glass paperweights he could smash in anger and have replaced the next morning, the blond-haired secretaries who were too eager to bend over for the handsome CEO, the subordinates he could swear at, yell at, knowing they’d still be happy to lick his boots if he asked; none of it helped to ease the cravings for an outlet.

Skull feeling too small for his brain, Jared rested his head against the soft seat-back, one hand clenching and unclenching the leather of the wheel while the other clicked the window open a crack to let the air hit his face like a woman’s slap.

Barely concentrating on the deserted street (and inwardly thinking that a car crash wouldn’t be so bad right now), he let his gaze travel over the inhabitants of the area, looking for something or someone to give him the rush he needed.

Sights passed in a haze of disinterest: drug-filled condoms being exchanged in an alley, hookers of the male, female, and transgender varieties clustered on corners to let the streetlamps illuminate their wares, drunken punches landing on flesh and on brick, teenagers with conspicuous voices but inconspicuous clothes yelling threats that were lost to the night, raucous laughter of people who were literally in the gutter but too high to care.

Frustration rising at the unappetizing offerings New York's underbelly presented him tonight, Jared's attention was briefly caught by a struggle on a lit corner as a tall, suited man smacked a younger hustler hard across the face, sending him stumbling back into the wall. The fluidity of the strike, unimpaired by drink or drugs, stood out against the blurred and clumsy movements that had punctuated the streets as he’d driven, and Jared curiously pulled up at the stoplight by the corner, deciding to see a little more of the argument before heading home.

He watched with detachment as the bigger man, who he guessed was either the kid’s pimp or a client, grabbed the boy by the arm before slamming him back into the wall and moving in menacingly. Unable to hear what they were saying, Jared flicked the music off and contented himself with watching the fear flit across the hustler’s face, green eyes wide and pleading as he looked up at the man whose back was now to the Impala. The light glinted off the gun that rested on the taller man’s hip and Jared wondered idly if he was about to witness a murder.

However, the suit stepped back moments later and Jared saw the kid almost collapse against the wall, shaking hands delving in the pockets of his tight jeans to produce a meager handful of crumpled notes.

The other man stepped forward to receive them, and Jared could make out his words for the first time, his voice mockingly patronizing. “See? I knew you were holding out on me, Jensen.”

His words only seemed to make the hustler, apparently called Jensen, more nervous as he held onto the notes, saying helplessly, “Please, this is all I’ve got. I need to eat, I-“

He was cut off, letting out a small cry when the man Jared now assumed was his pimp seized his wrist, pulling him closer as he wrenched the money out of his hand. Their words were again lost to the constant rumble of the city and Jared put the car back into drive, ready to leave as he contemplated what the kid had done to deserve going hungry. Shaking the question out of his head, he hit the gas to leave the hustler’s world for his own.

The Impala got less than three feet before he changed his mind.

With an impulsive scratch at the niggling itch, he swung the car round the corner, braking sharply at the curb and sliding the window down to meet the staring eyes of the two men. The suit stayed where he was, fingers still closed tightly around the kid’s wrist as he remained unconcerned by the intervention. Jensen, on the other hand, seemed to have gone from scared to terrified, wide eyes darting between the two men like a trapped animal, expecting an attack from either side.

Gaze flickering between frightened green eyes and cool dark ones, Jared leaned closer to the window and addressed his question to the latter with casual contempt, “Hey, he working tonight?”

The bigger man turned to face him, the material of the expensive suit stretched tight over his strong arms and deep brown eyes narrowed in suspicion as he asked, “Why do you want to know?”

With an impatient sigh, Jared leaned closer to the car window, saying bluntly, “Because I want to take him home and fuck him senseless.” A hint of ice trickled into his tone as he added, “And that’s going to be difficult with you hanging on like someone’s about to steal your favorite toy.” He flashed a wolf-like grin, eyes glinting dangerously in the dim light. “I don’t share well.”

He glanced over at the hustler and was intrigued to see the barest hint of a smile on his lips at Jared’s words. The kid’s entire posture seemed less frightened than earlier, and Jared realized Jensen had relaxed a little when he’d worked out that the stranger wasn’t providing his attacker with reinforcements.

Unconsciously adding that tiny smile to the mental image which had previously just included the hustler spreading his legs for him, he gave a genuine smile in return and tried again to get some response out of the other man. “So, he selling?”

A smirk crossed the suit’s face and his hand moved up to grip Jensen’s upper arm through the rough fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer as he replied with matter-of-fact cruelty, “He’s always selling. Pay the right money, and you can do anything you want to this tight little ass.” Jensen’s eyes dropped to the ground but Jared still caught his wince when the man squeezed his arm tightly. “Isn’t that right, Jenny?”

“Yeah.”

The answer was ground out through gritted teeth but the man chuckled anyway, fingers digging into the boy’s arm as he spoke quietly into his ear. His voice stayed below Jared’s hearing but from the sudden pallor of Jensen’s face, he guessed the message being imparted wasn’t exactly a cheerful farewell.

Any guesses were cut short when the suit shoved the younger man roughly towards the Impala, almost sending him crashing to the ground in the process. Stumbling, Jensen somehow managed to stay upright and walked quickly to the car, head down in humiliation. Jared could practically feel the waves of shame radiating off his tensed shoulders as he slid into the passenger seat, followed all the way by the cold eyes and cruel smirk of the man on the sidewalk.

Feeling oddly protective of the hustler who’d just been shoved into his care, Jared returned the sneer, feeling the itch of boredom disappear fully as the Impala sped home with one more occupant than it had left with.

**+++**

“I don’t do that sort of stuff.”

Jared blinked. Of all the opening lines he’d expected from his new passenger, that hadn’t even made the top fifty.

“You’re going to have to narrow that down for me, kid,” he answered with an amused smirk. At Jensen’s confused look, he elaborated, “That response usually comes a lot later in the evening.”

Jensen’s eyes stayed rooted to the floor, voice firm but demeanor still nervous as he explained, “I don’t know how much you saw back there, but what happened wasn’t-“ He cut himself off, looking up at Jared as he said with a burst of courage, “I don’t do that. Anything else you want, I guess we can work something out, but if you’re just in this for a punch bag, you can stop the car and let me the hell out now.”

He finished, dropping his eyes back to the floor as realization dawned on Jared. Finally understanding Jensen’s thought processes (namely that since Jared had seen the suit beating on him, he’d hired him in order to do the same), he chuckled as he swung the car round another corner. Jensen tensed at the sound and Jared made a contrite mental note not to laugh at someone who was already terrified of getting the shit beat out of him.

Mildly apologetic, he offered his best attempt at reassurance, “Relax. Didn’t pick you up just because you look fuckable when you’re scared. I’m in this for the old-fashioned reason.”

He felt him relax, albeit uncertainly, at the statement, some of the tension slipping out of the Impala's open window as he heard the kid shuffling to a more comfortable position before commenting with new-found confidence, “There’s a motel up here on the left. Rooms are cheap if you wanna…”

Glancing over upon hearing the tentative suggestion, Jared took a better look at his passenger, carefully adjusting his first impressions as he focused more on the hustler than the road.

Despite appearing small compared to the man who’d been pushing him around, Jared now estimated Jensen that was only a little shorter than he was. His jeans and jacket were tight and tattered, providing little cover while leaving little to the imagination, and contrasting sharply with Jared’s own well-fitted shirt and black jeans. Jensen’s dark green tee was smudged with dirt, which he guessed was either from an earlier trick that evening or from the struggle on the corner, and it too clung snugly to his body. After seeing his broad shoulders and strong build, Jared was mildly surprised by how skinny the kid was, knowing it was down to lack of food rather than the thorough exercise regime that contributed to his own lean figure.

Eyes tracking over his profile and seeing long lashes silhouetted in flashes of streetlights and store signs, he didn’t realize Jensen was actually speaking until he turned to him, eyebrows raised in expectation of an answer. An answer Jared didn’t have.

He blinked, confused. “What was that, kid?”

“I, uh, I was just saying that you passed the motel.” He looked away as Jared’s eyes met his, suggesting helpfully, “But if you hang a right here, there’s another two blocks down.” His lips tightened almost imperceptibly as he added, “And I’m not a kid.”

Jared’s mouth curved in an amused grin at the statement, purposefully ignoring the right turn as he continued on the familiar rout back to his penthouse. “Oh, so you’re not a kid, huh? How old are you, Jenny?” Jensen opened his mouth to answer but he cut him off, pre-empting, “The real answer. Not the one you give to any cops that come around.”

Jensen’s voice became immediately defensive. “Twenty-one, okay? I’m twenty-one. Full-grown adult here.” His tone slipped to mocking as he muttered, “Sorry if you were looking to fuck someone underage.”

Jared lifted one eyebrow. “You know, for someone I’m paying to spread their legs, you’re a sarcastic bastard.” He smirked as Jensen’s gaze dropped and pushed further, enjoying the meeker side of the man. “Maybe I should just drop you back in the gutter? Find myself something a little less chatty to enjoy tonight?”

Jensen’s shoulders visibly tensed at the threat and he answered quietly, “No.”

“What was that?”

“No,” he repeated, ashamed. “I’m sorry, I-“ A deep breath. “I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Jared chuckled. “Good call.” He hit the gas again, knowing the hustler wouldn’t stay quiet for long. “I’m nearly ten years older than you, _kid_ , and I’ll call you whatever I want. You got that?”

Jensen’s answer was quick and obedient, and shot straight to Jared’s cock. “Yes, Sir.”

Adjusting his pants subtly, Jared sighed. As much as he loved that form of address falling from those perfect lips, he wanted more than one kind of spunk in his partner that evening and reluctantly eased up, deciding to save the total obedience for another pick-up on another night. “Not that I mind the ‘Sir’, but the name’s Jared.”

The younger man paused before venturing a moment later, “Jensen.”

A sarcastic retort sprang to his lips but he let it slip away, saying simply, “Well, _Jensen_ , we should be there soon.”

**+++**

By the time they reached Jared’s penthouse, Jensen had evaluated and re-evaluated his opinion of his new client more time than he could count. He felt like he was stuck in a kaleidoscope, watching different colors of Jared fall into a pattern only to have them shaken up and shifted before he could take them in.

Uncertain of where he stood with this trick, Jensen waited nervously by the expansive window, opting to lose himself in the sights of the city rather than in the simmering anxiety which gnawed at his gut. New York lay sprawled beneath him, its failures hidden in the skyscraper-shadows of its successes as it offered up nothing but glittering lights to those who were wealthy enough to distance themselves from the darkness.

Absently, he touched his fingers to his cheek, gingerly tracing the sensitive spot where he’d been struck earlier that evening and trying to remember how long the same bruise took to fade last time. Almost against his will, his mind drifted back to Jared, not understanding the impulsivity that would cause him to argue publicly over a hustler whom he then didn’t know what to do with.

Everything about him seemed to contrast, and Jensen didn’t know how to read it.

He didn’t know what to make of a man whose clothes cost more than Jensen’s rent for the year but whose boots looked like they were older than he was. A man who had no problem starting fights in the wrong part of town but refused to fuck his hooker anywhere other than the penthouse of a skyscraper. A man who had the prestige, money and power to live the American wet dream but handled his old car like it was the most valuable thing in the world. A man who wore a gold Rolex, had a television wider than his car, and apparently drank large glasses of twenty-one-year-old whiskey when he got home, but still had a tub of Gummi Worms next to his fridge.

Lost in the conundrum, Jensen was taken by surprise when the owner of the penthouse moved to stand beside him, long, lean body reflected in the glass of the window as he too looked out over the city in silence.

Skin prickling at his proximity, Jensen made an attempt at small-talk, hoping to push him into getting the night’s activities started, “Nice place.”

Jared gave a small snort of derision as he sipped his whiskey. “I guess so. Anything’s got to be better than the shithole you live in, right?”

A sudden bolt of panic shot through Jensen and he asked with barely concealed terror, “You know where I live?”

Another laugh. “Just call it a wild guess.” Jared’s dark eyes bored into him, and he instinctively tensed under the scrutiny. “You don’t exactly look like the type who can afford roach-free accommodation.” His tone became one of patronizing pity, “Hell, you can’t even afford clothes that fit right.”

Anger and embarrassment flared up in Jensen’s veins, and he unconsciously hunched in on himself, muttering bitterly, “I’ll make sure to buy some after we’re finished here then.”

Jared’s laugh was louder this time, genuinely amused by the retort, and he held up another glass of whiskey to the younger man with the instruction, “Have a drink.”

Jensen shook his head, holding up his hand in refusal. “I don’t- I mean, I need to-“

“Drink it.”

His voice didn’t allow for any argument but Jensen folded his arms across his chest, a sliver of defiance left as he refused firmly, “I agreed to let you fuck me. There’s no way I’m letting you drug me as well.”

He flinched back as Jared swiftly raised the glass higher, half-expecting to have either the alcohol or the glass thrown at him in punishment.

However, the strike never came and he instead watched in confusion as Jared shrugged, unconcerned. “Have it your way.” Tipping the glass back, he downed the contents himself with a grimace before fixing Jensen with a challenging stare. “Since you don’t want any preliminaries, I think we should skip to the main event.” A smirk flashed across his lips. “Strip.”

Not even bothering to see whether his order was obeyed, he turned and strolled across the living area, depositing the empty glass as he went. He settled himself in a large leather armchair, taking another long sip of his own whiskey before looking up at the still-clothed and wrong-footed Jensen.

He raised an eyebrow. “There a problem?”

The younger man struggled for an answer, thoroughly confused by Jared’s mood swings. In the space of thirty minutes, he’d threatened to leave him by the roadside for talking back to him, but had then offered him whiskey as a ‘preliminary’ and apparently taken no offense at the suggestion that he’d wanted to drug him. Jensen was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, and didn’t want it to be when he was naked and vulnerable.

“No, I just-“ he stammered. “I wasn’t sure-“

Jared laughed mockingly. “What? You need a reminder of your job description?” His eyes were cold as he outlined simply, “You do what I tell you and you get paid.”

“I-“

“So you don’t want the money after all?” Jensen immediately fell silent but Jared filled in the blanks. “No? You don’t need it anymore? Guess I wasn’t hearing you right earlier.” His tone became darker as he mimicked, “Please… Please, I need to eat…”

Jensen’s lips tightened and Jared’s smile widened. He pulled a ten from his wallet with easy confidence and dropped it to the floor, eyes never leaving the hustler’s. “That should buy you a few burgers. Now strip.”

More used to johns just pulling his jeans down before shoving him over a trashcan, Jensen felt his cheeks flush with shame at stripping under Jared’s gaze and the bright lights of the lounge. Forcing a neutral expression on his face, he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and dropped it onto a footstool before swiftly pulling his well-worn t-shirt over his head. He saw Jared take another drink of whiskey, his tongue darting up to lick his lip while his eyes never left Jensen’s body.

His skin crawled at the inspection and he purposefully kept his head down as he tugged off his battered boots and threadbare socks. His fingers went to the button of his jeans, unfastening it as he tried to distract himself by working out which of the bruises and scars he’d seen in his cracked bathroom mirror that morning would be most visible to his current employer. Almost laughing at the depressing nature of his distraction, he slid his jeans down his legs, feeling the lingering dampness at the knees from where they’d encountered the dirty ground of an alley earlier that night.

Finally naked, he raised his head reluctantly to meet Jared’s appreciative gaze.

**+++**

Hand closed around his whiskey glass, Jared had watched silently as Jensen slowly discarded each worn item of clothing. Dispassionately, he’d observed the bruises scattered like a finger-painting over his torso and the ashamed but resolved expression that had remained fixed on the hustler’s face throughout.

When Jensen was fully naked, he downed the rest of his whiskey and looked again at his purchase for the evening, enjoying the view. Jensen’s skin was paler than Jared’s, and although he was thin, he’d retained some firm muscle in his limbs and torso. His cock hung heavily between his legs and Jared’s own pants felt a little tighter when he saw the embarrassed flush spreading over the freckles on younger man’s face at being studied so openly.

Depositing his empty glass on a table, Jared shifted in his seat, making himself more comfortable as he instructed calmly, “On your knees, Jenny.”

He saw Jensen’s brows dip in confusion but he obeyed nevertheless, dropping to his knees in his position across the room from Jared. His eyes remained tinged with curiosity as he looked over at the older man, awaiting further instruction.

With a slight nod of approval, Jared peeled another ten dollar note from his wallet, letting it flutter to the floor with the other as he ordered, “Come here.”

He smirked at the almost imperceptible slump of the boy’s shoulders as the implication of the command sank in, but his smile broadened as Jensen moved to his hands and knees and began crawling slowly across the room to where Jared sat. He watched the muscles in his back ripple pleasantly in the light but couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting to the curve of the hustler’s ass and adjusted his pants once again as a result.

His observations were interrupted when Jensen came to a halt at his feet, sitting back on his haunches and keeping his head down as his hand inched out to claim the twenty dollars on the ground.

“Look at me.”

He did and Jared swallowed a groan at how pretty the hustler looked, big green eyes filled with a mixture of anxiety and resignation as he unconsciously worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

Momentarily giving in to the urges coursing through his body, Jared abandoned all pretence of control and patience. Leaning forward suddenly, he slid his hand in Jensen’s hair and pulled him closer, crushing their lips together before the cry of surprise could make it all the way out of the other’s mouth.

He felt the different impulses jolt through the younger man's body, filling the kiss with frozen shock, struggling panic, obedient acquiescence, and finally with eager arousal at receiving more affection and passion than Jared guessed his tricks ever showed him. Even with him dictating the strength and depth of the kiss, Jensen returned it willingly and Jared felt some of the tensions of the week ebbing away as the hustler moved further between his spread legs, his denim-clad upper thighs resting above the boy’s bare hips.

Hunger sated for the moment, Jared pulled away with a small internal sigh, unable to resist a soft bite to Jensen’s kiss-swollen lips as he did so. Bringing his breathing back under control, he schooled his features back into a disinterested expression and held two twenties up purposefully in front of Jensen.

He almost regretted it when he saw the fleeting look of disappointment in the hustler's eyes quickly replaced by the grudging acceptance of someone who knew what was expected of him. He dropped the twenties beside the tens, and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Get on with it, kid.”

Jared’s head fell back against the leather of the chair, eyes staring up toward the ceiling as he felt Jensen pull his zipper down, the rasp of metal teeth loud in the silence that could only be achieved thirty storeys above the city. The button of his black jeans was popped open and he let out a long breath when experienced fingers slipped inside and pulled him out, coaxing his thick cock to full hardness. A spit-slicked hand stroked up and down with practiced ease, and a groan escaped his lips as he felt a tongue lick a path up the underside of his shaft before Jensen’s mouth closed round the head.

He let his eyes drift shut, enjoying the sensation of the wet heat encasing his cock and the skilled tongue swirling around his head, brushing his slit in time with the smooth movement of his hand. Jared’s fingers dug into the soft leather of the chair as Jensen took more of him into his mouth, but he kept his eyes closed, trying to decide whether the hustler’s expression would be one of disgust or enjoyment as he sucked his dick with enthusiasm.

His question was partly answered as Jensen moaned quietly around his length, the vibrations forcing an answering, genuine moan from Jared’s own lips. His hand threaded itself into Jensen’s hair, wordlessly forcing more of his cock into his mouth as he gasped at the feeling. He heard him gag at the intrusion but didn’t release his grip and sure enough, Jensen recovered with ease, breathing heavily through his nose as he opened his throat to accommodate Jared.

Getting closer to the edge, Jared gripped Jensen’s hair more firmly, thrusting up and forward into the willing mouth. Chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, he groaned with pleasure, arching up as he swore under his breath, “Fuck, Jensen…”

He could’ve sworn he felt Jensen smile at the use of his preferred name, and he glanced down for the first time, balls tightening at the sight of Jensen’s soft pink lips closed round his cock, sucking with fervor as he stared up at him with big green eyes, looking for all the world like the most innocent whore Jared had ever seen.

The visual was enough.

With a shout of “Jesus Christ…”, he grabbed his hair tighter, thrusting twice more between Jensen’s stretched lips before he came with a cry, staying buried in the slick warmth as the hustler swallowed all he gave. Jared gave a sigh of contentment as Jensen licked him clean and then let his softening cock slip from his lips, sinking back down to a sitting position and collecting his money while he waited for Jared to regain his composure.

Filled with new energy, Jared zipped his pants back up and looked down at the waiting hustler, eyes glinting playfully. “Nice work, Jenny.” He took another deep breath, chuckling to himself in disbelief at how winded he was. “Fuck, that mouth was made to take cock, wasn’t it?”

Jensen said nothing at the question, instead waiting for further instructions.

Noting his silence, Jared narrowed his eyes, not wanting the praise for his skills to make the boy too confident. “That wasn’t rhetorical.” Jensen’s eyebrows raised in surprise but Jared instructed knowingly, “Answer me.”

Shaking his head, Jensen asked, part teasing, part offended, “What do you want me to say? ‘Yeah, I was born to suck you off’?”

“Well, that'd be a start,” Jared agreed, smirking. “Hey, you should be proud. I’m guessing that’s one of the only skills you got, so you may as well admit it.” Jensen stayed quiet, and he prompted, “I’m waiting…”

Sighing, he complied, saying without enthusiasm, “I’m good at sucking cock.”

Jared smiled. “Tell me you enjoy it.”

“Screw you,” he retorted, hoping Jared was still too blissed out to hit him for defiance.

No blow came as Jared simply held up a ten dollar note and repeated, reveling in the power he held over the other man, “Tell me you enjoy it.”

Jensen gritted his teeth. “I like sucking cock.”

The green note dangled out of his reach. “Like you mean it.”

Swallowing down his anger, which was only intensified by the tang that still coated his tastebuds, he tried again, voice meek and marginally closer to sincere, “I love sucking cock.”

“You love sucking whose cock?”

His fists clenched as he ground out, “I love sucking your cock.”

“Good boy.” He sat up, running his hand mockingly through Jensen’s hair but still holding back the payment as he gave one more order. “Now, thank me for giving you the opportunity.”

Jensen’s downcast eyes shot up to his and his face clearly showed his humiliation as he obeyed unwillingly, “Thank you for letting me suck your cock.” Unable to resist, he added bitterly, “Sir.”

Jared only laughed at the response, throwing the note down by his feet as he said, “See, wasn’t so hard, was it? Seventy bucks just for talking and giving head.” He stretched his arms above his head before pushing himself to his feet with a groan. “Now get in the bedroom and you can earn the rest of it.”

He watched the emotions flicker across Jensen's face for a moment, desire to refuse warring with his need for money, and wasn’t surprised when money won out over pride. Stepping to the side, he paused as Jensen gathered up the scattered notes and moved to his hands and knees again, prepared to repeat his earlier actions and crawl to the bedroom. Jared purposefully waited until he’d made it to the edge of the rug before informing him, “Feel free to walk.”

Jensen’s shoulders tightened in frustration but he got to his feet, still holding the money, and followed Jared into the luxurious, dimly lit bedroom, trying not to show his amazement at the expensive décor and expansive four-poster bed that was evidently the centerpiece of the room. Jared noticed his eyes lingered for a moment on the solid wooden chest at the bottom of the bed but he didn’t comment on it, instead commanding, “On the bed.”

As Jensen sat nervously on the mattress, Jared pulled off his dark red shirt, letting it puddle on the floor like spilt wine. His boots were slung into the nearest corner and he walked barefoot across the cream carpet, slipping his hand under the lid of the chest and watching the hustler’s eyes widen as he saw what he now held in his hand.

“I-“ Jensen swallowed hard. “That’s not going to fit.”

Jared held up the large pink plug, eyeing it and Jensen with mocking contemplation. “Think it is, Jen.” His tone became one of faux-concern. “Don’t worry, we’ll take it one step at a time.” He tucked the toy under his arm and pulled his wallet from his jean pocket, removing a wad of notes and leaving it by the bed. Stepping close to the edge of the mattress, he selected a twenty, holding the cash in one hand and the thick plug in the other as he said simply, “Suck it.”

Jensen frowned. “It’s going to need more-“

He was cut off when Jared grabbed his hair, dragging him closer to him as he held the plug up to his lips. Eyes hard, he spoke firmly, “Shut the fuck up, kid. Now, I’m going to give you twenty, and you’re going to suck this like the cheap little slut you are.” He jerked his hair just hard enough to remind him who was in control. “Got it?”

“Got it,” Jensen conceded, gasping in relief when Jared let him go, dropping the twenty next to him and holding up the pink length for his attentions.

Under Jared's expectant gaze, he knelt up, gripping the base of the plug and tentatively taking the end into his mouth. Jared’s hazel eyes bored into his while he eased more of the plug into his mouth, flushed cheeks hollowed as he sucked on the large toy, lubricating it as best he could. Jared smiled at the sight, running a patronizing hand through his messed-up hair as he commented, “You look good with a cock in your mouth.”

Jensen stared resolutely forward, opting to look at the rise and fall of Jared's smooth chest rather than at either the toy that was currently fucking his mouth or the face of the trick who was turned on by watching it. Feeling the slippery silicon thrust in and out of his lips, he tried to keep his breathing level and his face blank, not wanting to do anything to anger the volatile john.

As much as he enjoyed the view, Jared tired quickly, deciding that he liked the sight of Jensen's lips around his own length rather than a silicon one. Sliding it out of his mouth, he handed it to the hustler who looked up at him, almost pleading with him not to make him do what he thought was coming. He let him sweat for a moment, before reaching into the nearest draw and tossing him a small tube of lube with a cocky smirk. “Didn’t think I’d make you shove it in like that, did you?”

The relief on Jensen face told him he’d though exactly that.

Producing yet more cash, Jared added another forty to Jensen’s payment for the evening and took a step back, providing the needless instruction, “Put it in.”

Jensen’s eyes darted to the money, seeing how much this new request was worth. Apparently satisfied, he moved further back onto the bed, settling with his legs spread in what Jared assumed was a common position for him and squirting a generous amount of lube into his hands. He sank back against the pillows as his fingers moved down between his legs, spreading the slick substance around his hole before easing one coated finger inside. The finger was soon followed by a second, and a third a minute later, and Jared was surprised to note that his pants were becoming tighter already at the look of embarrassment and discomfort on Jensen’s face.

He unfastened his jeans, pulling his half-hard cock out for the second time that evening and reaching for the tube of lube, which Jensen had just used to liberally cover the plug. Palming his cock, he began with slow, firm strokes as he watched Jensen position the thick plug at his partially stretched hole, smirking in amusement at the way the hustler closed his eyes, apparently psyching himself up for the insertion of the plug.

“At some point tonight, kid.”

Jensen’s fists briefly clenched at the reminder but his anger vanished as quickly as it appeared and Jared felt a buzz of arousal rush through him as he pushed the tip of the plug into his ass with a gasp of pain. His strokes increased in speed as inch after inch of pink silicon disappeared between the rounded cheeks, each shove punctuated by soft whimpers and gasps of pain from the man on the bed.

Eyes tracing over his prone form, Jared instinctively licked his lips at the sight of the hustler’s sweat-covered torso, bent legs trembling with each movement of the plug. Unwanted tears gathered in the corners of Jensen’s eyes as he struggled to keep his breathing regular, but, Jared observed with interest, his cock was hardening against his stomach in response to the stimulation provided by the large plug.

“This turning you on?” he asked knowingly. “You like having something that big up your ass?”

Jensen didn’t answer, eyes and mouth clamped shut while he worked the plug the rest of the way in, fingers and hole still glistening with lube as he then slumped against the bed, taking deep breaths and not moving for fear of jarring the toy inside him. Wincing in a combination of pain and arousal, he slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Jared and asking tiredly, “What else do you want me to do?”

Jared’s hand stilled at the question. He retrieved another note from his pocket and moved closer to the bed, making sure Jensen could see that the note, and his next order, was worthy fifty dollars. “Simple. All I want you to do is use that plug to get yourself off.” Jensen frowned, surprised by the ease of the task, and Jared clarified, “And only the plug. Not paying just to watch you jerk off.”

He received a short nod in response and watched with interest as Jensen gripped the base of the plug with a whimper, twisting it slowly in an effort to loosen it. Angling it carefully, he began to thrust it slowly in and out, brushing his prostate with every movement and causing him to arch back on the bed, gasping in discomfort at the added motion. Wanting a better view, Jared moved to kneel on the bed, strokes becoming harder and faster as he matched Jensen’s progress with the plug.

The hustler's cock jutted out from the nest of dark curls between his raised thighs, begging for attention as Jensen’s other hand clenched in the sheets in a desperate attempt to stop himself from touching. His hips rocked forward wantonly, meeting the thrusts of the plug and forcing needy moans from his throat at the contact.

“Fuck, you’re nearly there,” Jared murmured, surprised at the quick response to the limited stimulation. “You really are a slut, aren’t you?”

He wasn’t surprised, however, when Jensen ignored the comment, focused solely on reaching his goal, although Jared was no longer sure whether the motivation was now the money or just the basic need to release. The pink silicon continued to move, both Jared's and Jensen’s hands working faster towards climax. Jensen’s head fell back against the pillows, sweat-caked throat bared and pink lips parted in a gasp of ecstasy as he came with a cry, cum splattering over his stomach as he collapsed on the bed. Jared’s own orgasm hit a moment later, spurred on by the gasps of pleasure and expression of satisfaction from the man beneath him, and he shot across Jensen’s smooth chest which was still rising and falling with his deep breaths.

Spent, he fell onto the bed beside the exhausted hustler, who was now sliding the plug out of his overly-stretched hole with a grimace of pain. Jared lay on top of the sheets, looking blurrily up at the ceiling as he said sincerely, “Nice work, Jen. You look good with something up your ass as well as down your throat.”

“Thanks,” Jensen spat, sarcasm dulled by tiredness.

He shifted gingerly on the bed, collecting the various notes Jared had tossed his way that night. Before he could move off the bed to reclaim his clothes, his wrist was grabbed by his employer and he was tugged back to face him as Jared said drowsily, “Stay.”

Jensen looked at him, perplexed as to what he could possibly want now, but Jared’s voice remained insistent. “Stay.” He delved in his pocket for another fifty dollars and slapped it on the pillow with the offer, “I’ll give you another hundred in the morning. Now lie the fuck down and go to sleep.”

Jensen hesitated a moment longer, fully aware of the dangers of spending the night with a trick but unwilling and unable to turn down the offer of a hundred and fifty bucks just for sleeping in a different bed. Reassured slightly by the fact that Jared was too worn out to beat, rape, or psychotically murder him during the night, he reluctantly settled back on the bed, quickly taking the fifty before tugging the covers over his still-sticky body. Jared did the same, slumping under the sheets with a groan and a sigh before letting his eyes fall shut.

The younger man watched nervously for a few minutes longer, seeing how Jared’s long hair spread messily on the deep red of the pillows and how his face seemed that much younger and less threatening when lax with sleep. Hearing his breathing become deep and regular in his slumber, Jensen allowed himself to relax slightly, fingers brushing the stack of bills once more as he closed his eyes. The kaleidoscope of Jared settled into fresh blocks of color behind his lids, and he felt something optimistic tug inside him at the prospect.  
  



End file.
